The Glitch

There's always something. But usually it is little and doesn't involve a breech in morals and beliefs.

I hadn't signed my video releases. I didn't want to. It said something about they could use my video for assessment (of me, which I totally expected - no problem) but then it went on to say "professional development, RESEARCH, and" basically anything else they wanted to.

I kinda had a problem with that. A big problem with that.

Yes it's true I got all of the forms back from the parents stating that was fine. But I wonder if they even read it. They were probably like, "Oh, Mrs. Daisy needs this so lets get it back to her." because that is how my parents of my students are. They are wonderful.

So I look at myself as the last line of defense against anything that may harm my students. And I tend to take a lot of stances that err on the side of caution.

So my mentor (being the patient soul) suggested calling National Board and asking them if they had another form, or if something could be marked out, etc. (The strictness of this is amazing so it we knew better than to just cross stuff out because it COULD mean they wouldn't score the entire section).

The lady I spoke with there was very unhelpful - well, unhelpful in that she just wouldn't see my point or my side.

I have (no, I am not exaggerating) exactly half of my students that receive some kind of help for something - special needs. I tend to be even MORE protective of them. And they are wanting me to sign away that they can use those videos of those kids for anything they want??

Yes, they are respectable and all but still, I just really didn't want to do that. Nowadays there are so many horror stories.

So my options?
sign OR
reimburse my district and the state $3000 AND have wasted 2 years of work on something that I didn't turn in.

Not good choices. So I signed them and cried as I did it. What should have been a joyous occasion is now tainted with going against my beliefs, and strong ones at that.

I asked my mentor if anyone else had ever had a problem with these releases. She said no and I was floored. But then she did say she had never had anyone with so many special needs students either.

I called my teammate on my way home. She could understand my reluctance, which made me feel better. But still, it's my signature.

I hate that rock and hard place place. Especially when it comes to standing up and fighting for what you believe.

At this point I can only hope they will be responsible and kind, assess my teaching and then be done with the videos.

The Sun Will Come Out Tomorrow :)

Here it is, the eve of my mailing date. The entries are all edited and revised (finally - only took 3 people plus me working non-stop to get entry 1 down to 12 pages - ick)

Only a few minor things to do. Write the contextual information section (small) about my school and district. Put my number on all the pages. Order them and paper clip them and put them in the right envelopes. Then seal up the box. Now there is a pleasant thought.

Two years of work going through the mail. That causes sweaty palms and head spasms. Why just the other day when the FedEx plane burst into flames I was pleased that I had gotten my 2 class computers back the day before. (not that they went any where near China, but still)

You hear stories about mailmen, I mean "mailpeople" dying and then they find all this mail in their garage. Maybe an urban myth? But still, who HASN'T ever had a piece of mail lost??? And insurance??? Forget it. You better have a receipt and then some. What kind of receipt would I give them for 60 pieces of paper and 2 CDs that have taken two years to compile?

Receipt - one arm or leg, whichever you choose. Throw in one fried brain. We might come out even.

It's funny. I haven't let the packet out of my sight for days - I cart it everywhere (and yes it's heavy). My poor 'puter is so backed up that it is probably insulted. And here I am getting ready to mail it.

It has to be like letting your child go off of to college. No, more like letting your baby go off to college because my poor box won't be able to speak up or fend for itself either.

But all of this wasn't the purpose of the post. The sun WILL come out tomorrow. I am sure I will be relieved and happy and have a weight lifted off. And I know for a FACT that the Midnight Sun will shine tomorrow, as I just found out that there are 12 CHAPTERS online at Wikipedia. I am saving that reading (Edwards point of view of Twilight) for celebrating tomorrow :) - if I can.

So tomorrow I say, Go Forth, Baby Box, and go straight and true to your destination. Beware of vampires lurking, mailpeople garages and fiery planes. Amen.

And the Torture Continues

Wasn't I just here with all these mounds? Did I ever leave? Have I progressed at all?

And in the back of my mind, Edward and Bella and Jacob and the whole rest of the bunch are still lurking . . . If I can just get this stuff done, then I can enjoy :)

Sorry, just had to take a break and say hi to y'all :)

I am Surrounded

By mountains of paperwork. Everywhere I look, every spare spot on the table. Covered in papers.

I am feeling more than a little nerdy and bookish. How 'bout crazed??? Tomorrow is my last final hurrah for my National Board stuff. I have the day off tomorrow to finish everything that isn't and redo everything that is done.

I changed my mail off date with my mentor to Friday. I still have papers/entries out being edited and revised to, of all people, the principal and assistant principal. He probably took one look at it and laughed. Oh well. I've got to edit out 4 pages of the one he is checking out - cut it down to twelve. I seriously need help with that. I could probably do 2 myself, but that would be pushing it. Writing shouldn't be limited or made to be a minimum amount. You should just say what you gotta say and that's enough. Or if it's over, that's fine too.

Guess I'd better get started. But I can't leave without severely editing THIS post. Here it is in a nutshell.

See pic x 3. Tons -- paperwork. National Board. CRAZY! Mail Friday. Edit exhaustively. Say what you need to say. Bye.